


The Meiyeras Mpreg Fic

by mosalls



Series: Wychorian Works [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Body Dysphoria, Canon Compliant, Canon Trans Character, Child Abandonment, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demigods, Goats, Gods, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mpreg, No one is., Original Races, POV First Person, Polyamory, Speedrun Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Very Secret Diary, Warden is not okay.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29821878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosalls/pseuds/mosalls
Summary: Enjoy, I certainly did not.Mind the tags. Please.small spin on canon shit
Series: Wychorian Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209515
Kudos: 2





	The Meiyeras Mpreg Fic

**Author's Note:**

> I almost cried while writing this fic. I hope you fuckers enjoy it. /s /nm 
> 
> \- A very much disappointed in himself Azrael
> 
> !! MIND THE TAGS! !!

**Diary Entry 1**

" Guide to being the God of Trickery and Languages.

I mean, of course, it isn't easy.

First, you have to watch your parents be brutally murdered in front of your eyes at the ripe old age of 17.

Then, you have to be banished to a new universe and meet the love of your life only to be tossed into a war.

Then you'll need to irreparably traumatise yourself. It adds nightmares that make you permanently disconnected from your body. Spice it up.

After that, you _**NEED**_ to win the war and end up meeting a sweet demon goat who ends up seducing you.

Then we skip a few steps, of course, and now the demon who said he was not able to procreate has knocked you up.

\- Anon. "

My writings make no sense, it makes me want to sob although no matter how much I force myself to think horrific thoughts no tears come out. I do not even remember the first part. : [

* * *

Every day I look down at what I wrote, that immature piece of literature and wonder why I signed my name as anonymous when the only ones who will read this are my husbands though by now I utterly despise them in a romantic way. I would never, _never_ , look down on the men who had cursed me to be like this. I love them, but fuck them. Now, as this is a new diary, I might as well write down changes to my life in the past 3 months and I assume I should start with the fact that I can feel pain now, my body has mutated beyond what I am comfortable with and I feel like gagging every time I am made aware of the fact that I even exist. Thankfully, my pain is majority physical and I could not be more thankful for that, even though I am almost bound to the bed with how the sensation of my muscles churning and ripping apart as my body struggles to adapt to this newfound curse. Even the sensation of writing such a short paragraph as this is utterly painful though thankfully I am alone so no one may hear my cries.

I should explain this horrid situation in more detail, it confuses me too and it will be good to look back in the chance it becomes too exhausting and I am forced to wipe my memory for the third time in the space of a year. Exactly 32 years ago, I met a demon in the plains of my homeworld and we- or rather the mask of Alia I had put up to hide from further trauma-- ended up growing close over an odd bond of 'Please, love, you need to kill the imposter who has taken over your aunt!' or something rather similar to that; again, I do not remember this and I am going off of what the Warden has told me. Fast forward a few days and Alia is in a serious relationship with this demon, their actions become unbelievably risky and horrible, becoming horribly sexual in nature from both sides. I do not remember those times and I do not wish to, though thankfully nothing came from that. They take him to my husband, Francis', homeworld.

Now we come to present day, after the proposal of the festival and I am sitting in my private library hastily scribbling into this quickly crafted book to get my thoughts out. I don't think he knows, I don't want to tell him and I beg you, reader, to excuse my informal vocabulary for this situation is like no other and it is torturous. A fateful night, we did the unspeakable together and immediately something felt off afterwards. I managed for a few weeks afterwards but I could feel my body shutting down and it turned out that they had...given me the privilege of being with child. The new presence and foreign object in my body was and still is making me sick, the strength I use to keep it alive has removed all of my defences and it would be idiotic for me to rest anywhere other than somewhere hidden away, where no one can find me. I know I cannot raise this abomination, they go against nature and I consider passing it to The Warden, the one who guards the hallway to visit other universes, to raise and find a stable universe for. I fear the power this one may have, I fear the impact on my life and relationships. We have only recently welcomed a daughter too. It would be horrid.

I am not even allowed into the hallway, I am not the Meiyeras that is allowed into the hallway but I cannot care less, this is damaging me though I just cannot kill it. I would love to, I would dream of it, but it just does not die. I will force my body to progress this in a matter of an hour, I cannot live this long while my body contorts and cracks and screams for help. I admit I feel a slight sense of anxiety and excitement to even gaze upon that disaster, a part of me just wants to go through with it, but I push through nevertheless. That's enough talking for now anyways. Goodnight, I need to rest in time for tomorrow. It will be a laborious day and I am not prepared in the slightest.

* * *

Meiyeras closed the book gently, a soft sob rising from their frail and still recovering body as their gaze studied the words they had written several years ago though they forced themselves to muffle their cries of sorrow with a piece of cloth that they had ripped from their shirt. Their gaze looked to the soft bundle of blankets that contained an unconscious demi-god. They hadn't given him away, instead gently raising him and never returning back to their husbands though deeply they knew that they should return soon, no matter how hard it would hurt. As their shaky and calloused hand trailed toward their son, gently brushing his fluffy and light hair out of his face as rose-tinted golden light shone upon his tan skin, similar to their first husband's. They didn't mind at all, placing a gentle and nurturing kiss onto his forehead before scooping him up and holding him close for a few precious moments before moving to the hallway and placing him in a soft and delicate bundle behind The Warden's lookout, ignoring how his tired eyes slowly opened and studied the room carefully, full of fear as he clung onto them, and officially handing him over to a hopefully kind alternate universe. Hoping he would find peace and a family who would likely accept him.

" Sleep now, Daserael. I will be back." They hummed a soft lullaby, soothing him back into a soft sleep and wiping his memory with the last and soft kiss that they would give him, placing a soft note beside him while wiping heavy tears from their face and disappearing. They regretted it all though from the visions of them- another them- finding the young one, taking care of him as if their own, they felt a soft relief overtake them.


End file.
